Carmichael Industries Versus Belle Mansion
by Steampunk.Chuckster
Summary: Carmichael Industries is hired by a rich heir to bug and install surveillance in his old family home in order to catch whoever's been purposely plotting to devalue the property by making it seem haunted. But are Chuck and Sarah Bartowski prepared for what they find when they arrive at the decrepit mansion in the woods? Canon. Post-series finale. Charah. Rated T for language.


**Carmichael Industries Versus Belle Mansion**

 **By Steampunk . Chuckster**

 **A/N:** I was going through old prompts on tumblr again and found this absolute gem. So I thought I'd just share it with everybody. Thanks to my wifey, Foxy, who came up with the greatest prompt ever. Chuck and Sarah have to investigate a haunted mansion, and she gave me three requirements: nose wrinkles, purple, and legs.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own CHUCK. I'm not making money from this story.

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Sarah peeked over at Chuck as she drove along the dark path flanked by large, old trees. The moonlight filtered down through the canopy of leaves above them, forcing Sarah to turn on their van's high beams just to see where she was going.

"Are we even going the right way?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Are we?" She gave him a quick flat look.

"Yes I said!"

Chuck was a little crabby tonight, and she couldn't really blame him all that much, since she was also feeling a little crabby.

They'd been in the car for four hours now, and the last hour was spent driving through a labyrinth of trees. Neither of them even knew where they were going at this point. Well, Chuck said he did, but she knew he didn't. He had that adorable line between his eyebrows that he got when he was perplexed.

"Okay, um…so according to the map, there's gonna be a fork up ahead in the next couple hundred yards. I guess. Maybe?" He frowned at his map and she let out a huff.

"What the hell are we even doing, Chuck?"

"Well, I tried the GPS but it has no idea what this damn place is! It tried to lead us to a Taco Bell, remember?"

Sarah couldn't help but snort a little. Belle Mansion had translated to Taco Bell on their car's GPS, because the place probably didn't even exist on any maps. Earl Belle was heir to the Belle fortune and owner of the mansion, though he spent his summers in New York and his winters in Bora Bora, which meant he never lived here. According to him, nobody lived here.

But his groundskeeper had apparently quit, as well as the cleaning woman, and just about anybody else who had been hired to take care of the place during Mr. Belle's absence. His family home had no one to care for it, he explained to them during their first meeting, because everyone kept quitting, citing "strange occurrences", whatever that meant.

Earl thought someone was attempting to devalue the property by making it sound like something otherworldly was going on there. And he hired Carmichael Industries to make sure whoever this villain was didn't succeed.

"No, Chuck. I mean…Why are we taking missions like this? We're about to go plant bugs in this abandoned old mansion to see if someone is pretending to be a ghost to devalue the property. That is way too Scooby-Doo for me."

"You'd make an amazing Daphne."

In spite of everything, she giggled through her nose. "Stop it. I don't look good in purple."

"That's such a lie," he scoffed. "You look magnificent in purple. In anything really. Or noth—"

"Now isn't the time," she said, cutting him off before he flirted shamelessly. On any other mission, at any other time, she would let him. But tonight, she had an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Do you think we should call Mr. Belle and ask him where the damn place is?"

"No! I can figure this out."

"Chuck, no offense. But I've been driving through this mass of forest for a long time now, almost an hour basically, and we have yet to find it. I love you, but you got us lost."

"I didn't—"

Sarah didn't see the tree trunk until it was right in front of their van. She slammed on the brakes as hard as she could, trying to veer out of the way as Chuck yelled and grabbed at the dashboard. Sarah's quick action meant the tree trunk slid along the side of the van, causing the incredibly unpleasant screeching sound of wood scraping along metal. And then she swung the wheel back so that the car spun out a little before finally screeching to a halt on the side of the road.

Once the dust settled, Sarah turned the car off completely and spun to look at Chuck.

He was still bracing himself, his eyes wide, his face set in terror.

"Chuck?"

Nothing.

"Chuck, you okay?" Nothing again. So she reached over and lightly pushed his shoulder. "Hey! Talk to me."

"Huh, wha—? Holy crap, where'd that come from?" The tension left his body as he lowered his hands and let out a long breath. "Are you alright? Hurt?" He put his hand on her shoulder and she sighed in relief.

"I'm fine. Just a little…in shock."

"Yeah. Is our baby okay?"

She spun to look at him with wide eyes.

"No! I—I mean, I didn't mean. Wait. You're not…because I thought we were still kinda talking about whether now is the best time…but are you…?"

"No!" she snapped.

"Right, right. Okay. No, I was just talking about…you know, our…Mystery Machine. This baby." He patted the dashboard lovingly.

"Oh."

She turned away and blushed. She heard baby and immediately her mind went there. Her mind went there a lot lately, and she didn't know what that meant. But so much had to change about their lives—their business—if they were going to start a family. And her memory still hadn't returned all the way, so there was still a lot to talk about before that happened and…Right now that was neither here nor there.

"Right. Our Mystery Machine." She smoothed her hands over the wheel.

"Yeah."

"Wait a second." She opened her car door and poked her head out to look at where the moonlight had illuminated a large, three story mansion that looked like it belonged in a horror film from the 1950s. "Chuck, look at this."

He mimicked her actions and even stood up a little to look. "Holy shit, that place is freaky!"

"Chuck, it's just an old house. But that must be it, right? Belle Mansion?"

"Well, lemme look at the map—"

"No more map, Chuck. That's the place. Come on, let's get our gear. Since we're here, we might as well bug the place and set it up for surveillance. C.I. always gets the job done." She got out and slid the back door open, beginning to get their gear sorted to take up to the house.

"Sarah."

"Huh?"

"What if it's…you know, what if it's actually haunted?"

She stopped and sighed, shutting her eyes for a long second, before turning to face him. "Chuck, I told you not to watch the Discovery Channel late at night. That's when they've always got that Ghost Hunter stuff on and you get nightmares."

"I don't get nightmares."

"You do. And then I have to cuddle you. Not that I'm complaining."

"Pffft, you are so lying." He reached past her to grab his pack, slinging it onto his back and latching it over his chest.

"I'm not at all. Listen, sweetie. Even if there are ghosts, you don't have to worry. Part of my job as your wife is to protect you from bad guys and bogeymen alike." She grinned and wrinkled her nose at him, sliding the door shut and patting his chest as she strolled past him.

"You coming?" she asked over her shoulder as he simply gaped at her.

"Don't even try to play on that whole archaic masculinity need for a man to protect his woman thing, okay? Because that doesn't work on me. I've known for years that you're the better protector and I've come to terms with that. In fact, I even like it. It makes me feel safe."

She reached out to grab him by his arm, stopping them both and turning him to face her. "Hey. First of all, ghosts aren't real. Second of all, I was just teasing. And finally, you're the only guy in the whole world who's ever been able to protect me, to make me feel safe. In fact, you're the only person who's ever cared enough to try in the first place. C'mere."

Sarah gave her husband a playful yank, causing him to stumble against her. She kissed him slowly, but pulled back with a chill when something rustled in the bush behind her. She clung to him and looked over her shoulder at it. Obviously it was some sort of animal, and she felt silly.

"Okay, let's go inside," she muttered, a little breathless and embarrassed because of it.

"Mmmm, still thinking outside's gonna be less scary than inside."

"Oh, come on. You're the tallest baby on the planet." She swatted him on the behind and pushed him up the path that led to the gate of the mansion.

Because nobody was home to let them in, according to Earl Belle's email, Chuck and Sarah had to climb the ten foot tall fence. Once they'd easily scaled it and were on the grounds, Sarah was assailed with that unsettling feeling again. Who the hell thought life size marble statues of naked people were hospitable or welcoming in any way?

"Not a fan of the decor," she muttered.

"I've seen worse."

She snorted as they walked up onto the driveway and started their way towards the front door of the mansion.

"Looks like the groundskeeper hasn't been here for years," Chuck said.

"Six years, to be exact. Which means lots of spiderwebs, no doubt." Sarah shivered. She was not a fan of spiders. Even slightly.

"If spiders are the least we have to worry about, don't fret, midear. I have giant feet with which to squash them."

Sarah giggled.

It took a few minutes because the lock was pretty badly rusted, but Sarah was able to pick the front door's lock successfully, pushing the door to swing open with a loud, creepy creaking sound. "This is so stereotypically creepy that it's almost stupid," she said under her breath.

Chuck heard her, though, and he reached out to take her hand. "Should I get my tranq gun out? Will a tranq gun even do anything to a ghost? They're kind of already dead."

Sarah rolled her eyes and led him inside. First thing she did was kneel down and plant a bug by the front door. This way they'd be able to hear anyone who entered the home.

They systematically moved through the first floor. At one point, Sarah almost suggested they split up to get the job done faster. But something made her feel like it would be a mistake. It wasn't that she was afraid of the place…at least not for the same reason Chuck seemed to be.

The poor guy kept jumping at every little sound, looking over his shoulder every few seconds.

It was just…weird. She had a feeling like maybe it was some sort of trap. How much did they really know about the Belle family? Or Earl Belle?

They'd been inside of the house for a half hour by the time they moved up the staircase that curled around the lobby—and it really was a lobby, it was so unnecessarily massive. "Are you getting that feeling like we're being watched?" Chuck asked in her ear from behind as she reached the top landing.

A shiver went through her. "What are you talking about? Chuck, honestly. Lighten up a little."

"I'm just saying! I've got that feeling, okay?"

"Just…stay with me. We've still got two floors to go thr—" Sarah swallowed the last word and nearly toppled backwards into Chuck as a painting fell off of the wall right in front of her, crashing to the wood floor. It was literally out of nowhere. She hadn't bumped it or anything.

"Why?!" Chuck barked at it.

"I didn't touch it!" she barked back.

"I know you didn't! It just…"

She reached back and held onto his arm. "Chuck, just calm down. The nail is probably old and it came out of the wall. No big deal."

"Or…"

But he didn't finish his thought, because they heard a sound on the floor above. Like furniture moving. And then there was shuffling of feet. "Sh! Somebody's in here," she hissed at Chuck, pulling him against the wall and holding onto him, staring up at the ceiling above them.

"Or some…thing." Chuck widened his eyes at her dramatically.

"Okay, you're not allowed to watch movies anymore."

"Sarah, what if it's actually a ghost, though?" he asked in a whisper.

She reached up to cup his face, smooshing his cheeks. "Chuck, there's no such thing as ghosts."

"Which is exactly what people say at the beginning of ghost movies."

"Ohhh my Goddd," she sighed under her breath. "Will you be serious for just a second? Because there's an intruder somewhere upstairs right now, and they may or may not be dangerous. I'd prefer it if neither of us gets shot tonight."

"Ghosts don't usually have guns. They just possess you. Like, I need an old priest and a young priest status."

"Chuck, I'm about to knock you out and shove you in a closet if you don't quit it with this ghost shit! Seriously!" she hissed. "There's someone up there. They might have a weapon. I need your brain here, with me."

"Sorry. Sorry, yeah. I know. It is. I'm here. Let's go." He carefully pulled his tranq gun out of the side holster of his pack and nodded.

"Thank you." She pulled her own gun out and led the way down the hallway, thinking maybe there might be some back staircase that led to the top floor.

They heard the shuffling again, and to Sarah's surprise, a low moan. Chuck tensed against her back, his hand grappling for hers and clinging tightly. "What. The hell. Was that?" he hissed in her ear.

Sarah Walker wasn't entirely sure how to answer that.

The moan sounded again, but this time down the hallway, behind them.

Chuck spun around, bringing her with him. He made sure to put his body between her and the noise, though, pointing his tranq down the hallway towards the area where the sound had come from. "Who is it?!" he called out. "Come out with your hands up."

Sarah slowly lifted her gun as well. But then the moan was behind them again. They spun back in to face the way they'd been walking, clinging to each other.

"Okay, even I have to admit, this is not okay," she muttered.

"This place is freaking haunted!" Chuck said through his teeth. "Can we go? Can we please just go? Can we?"

"I think that'd be best," she agreed, seriously getting freaked out by the sounds coming from upstairs. Something that sounded like it was made of glass fell over in the room they were standing next to and Chuck took off towards the stairs.

"Chuck! Wait!"

He didn't listen, disappearing around the corner. She heard a dull thump, his outcry, and the sound of him falling down the staircase. "Chuck!" she yelled, cold fear gripping her heart in a vise grip.

Chuck was halfway down the the staircase, a noose around his leg, the rope leading down the stairs and disappearing out of sight.

"Chuck, are you okay?" she gasped, practically falling down the stairs herself to reach him. She clambered down to his side and grabbed at his face, holding him carefully. He looked a little dazed, but alive at least. "Are you hurt?"

"Hm? No, wha—Why is this ON ME?!" He sat up and grabbed at the noose, loosening it and yanking it off to throw it away.

"What the hell happened?"

"I was going to the stairs so that I could get out of this freaking house and all of a sudden something tightened around my ankle and pulled me down!" He winced and rubbed the back of his head.

Sarah felt anger prick at her suddenly. Whoever or whatever the hell was doing this had just targeted her husband, meaning to do him harm…at the very least, they meant to scare him. But neither of those things were going to stand.

"Come on, Chuck. Get up. We're taking this son of a bitch down."

"What?" He let her pull him up a little, but he looked positively terrified. "Wait, Sarah, no. We gotta go. We gotta go. Get outta here. Get back to the car. And go."

"Somebody is screwing with us, Chuck."

"Yes, Sarah. From beyond!"

She had to admit, a small part of her was freaked out, but there had to be a logical explanation. And she was going to find out what it was. "I'm not leaving 'til I fry this bastard," she said through clenched teeth, hoisting Chuck to his feet. "Did you hit your head at all?"

"No. Did you?!"

Sarah ignored that and instead grabbed his arm. "Come on. We're going to the third floor." She had her gun out again, ready to blast whoever it was that was behind all of this.

"You can't shoot a ghost, Sarah."

"Maybe not, but I can shoot an asshole."

"What if it's an asshole ghost?"

The moaning started again and in spite of the adrenaline and anger coursing through her veins, she felt a chill come over her. It just didn't sound…human. Or alive. A door slammed behind them and Chuck yelped, spinning on his heel.

"Ignore it. They're trying to draw our attention away from where they really are," she said, grabbing his arm and giving him a sassy look. "Have you ever seen any movies, Chuck?" she mocked.

Even with everything that was going on, a slow grin formed on his face and he chuckled. "You're my favorite."

"Yeah, well…" She smirked and tugged him along, jumping a little when more doors slammed behind them.

They found some back stairs around the corner, the stairwell so narrow that they basically had to be pressed right up against one another to ascend side by side. And honestly, considering what had just happened with Chuck on the main staircase, Sarah wasn't willing to let him out of her sight for even a moment.

And when the air suddenly got much, much colder, she wondered if maybe she'd let her anger get the better of her rather than thinking logically. Maybe she should've listened to Chuck and gotten them both out of there. But no…That wasn't thinking logically! Because logically, ghosts did not exist. Spirits. Spooks. Spectres. Phantoms. Bogeymen. It was all bullshit. In her thirty two plus years of life, Sarah Bartowski had never experienced anything even remotely supernatural. Twisted? Yes. Evil? Dehumanizing? Disillusioning? Absolutely. But never supernatural.

Although, the immediate and magnetic connection she felt to Chuck when she first met him was pretty damn close. It was more than chemical, more than physical. It was otherworldly. Or at least the closest thing to it.

With that thought in her head, she moved her hand up to twist her fingers in his shirt, pulling him that much closer. Because if logic failed them and this was something that couldn't be explained, they were getting out of here alive and together.

Stop being so dramatic, she silently chastised herself.

They heard the loud moan again and the sound of breaking glass downstairs, behind them in one of the second floor rooms.

"This is so effed up," Chuck half-whimpered.

She ignored him and just held his shirt a little tighter.

Once she reached the top of the staircase, she pressed her back against the wall and let out a long, calming breath. She was focused, ready for anything.

Though apparently not anything.

Because when she swung around the corner to look down the third floor hallway, her gun raised in front of her, she saw something halfway down in the darkness. It was white, filmy…milky even. And moving. Squirming. Floating. A hovering white milky…human…figure. Well, it was human shaped. Certainly not a human.

"What…the hell…?"

Chuck hurried to her side, his tranq pistol raised, but then he froze. She felt how stiff he was as he pressed against her back. "What is that what is that what is that what is th—Hnng!" She elbowed him to shut him up, even as she was transfixed by the sight of whatever that was.

The moan sounded again and it was coming out of the thing. The cold got worse. Sarah could practically see her own breath.

Sarah was trained to keep a level head in disturbing situations, and she wasn't sure she'd seen much that was more disturbing than this, so instead of sprinting the other way, she took a step forward, her gun still raised. And she realized how idiotic and futile it was for her to still have her gun pointed at this…thing. But she did it anyways, because her gun made her feel more in control.

"What the hell are you?"

It moaned again, raising an arm above its head.

"Damn it, that's not an answer!" she snapped, looking at it in annoyance.

But then it surged towards her, covering the distance too quick for her to do anything but stare. She felt something slam into her back, knocking her out of the thing's path. She turned as she fell and watched the thing go straight through Chuck's body and disappear into the wall behind him.

Chuck stood, frozen, staring straight ahead in shock, clutching at his own torso.

"Chuck! Oh my God," she gasped, lunging to her feet and grabbing onto him. She cupped his face, turning him towards her, running a hand over his hair. "You—What the hell are you thinking? Are you okay?"

He let out a breath and looked down at her. "I think so. That was so creepy."

"Don't do that again!"

"What? Save you? Um sorry, Sarah, but you're my wife, so you'll just have to deal with it."

She let out a frustrated huff, because she knew he would say that. Or something close to it. "Come on."

Sarah raised her gun again, but kept holding Chuck's hand. They moved down the hallway together again, slowly, carefully. "Watch where you step," Sarah murmured to him.

She didn't need her man stepping in anymore traps.

And then she heard something shuffling in the room next to her, behind the closed door. She staggered into Chuck and they both pressed back into the wall opposite the door. "They're in there," she whispered, hating that her voice quivered. She was afraid that if she showed fear, Chuck would lose it. And maybe she wasn't giving him enough credit, because he stood up a little straighter then, rolling his shoulders bravely.

"Want me to open it?" he asked.

"No."

He sighed in relief. "Good."

"We're opening it together."

"Oh. Of course we are."

"Come on. You play video games that have zombies popping out of closets all the time. You can handle this."

"Yeah, but I can just turn off the TV and those zombies that pop out of closets go away. This is a little different," he hissed through his teeth.

"Channel a lion or something."

"Which lion are we talking about, though, sweetheart? Because there's the cowardly lion, as we all know, and if I channeled him, I'd be running out of this cursed place like it was on fire. And probably jumping through a window in the process."

"Okay, channel him after he gets his courage, then," she whispered. "Come on. Together."

He breathed out through pursed lips and nodded quickly.

They moved towards the door as one, moving silently, slowly. And then Chuck reached out with his free hand to carefully push down on the door handle. There was a soft click, they met gazes, she nodded in encouragement, and he pushed it open.

It was pitch dark inside. They couldn't see anything. So Sarah went into her pocket to pull her phone out. She held it up and turned it around to use the screen as a makeshift flashlight. Wrapping her hand around Chuck's again, she stepped inside with him and swept the light around the room.

There was a bed, a desk, an antique lamp, a ghastly hatred-filled face…

Wait…

Sarah screamed and dropped her phone, feeling Chuck's hand ripped from hers. She grappled for him, hearing him yell in terror as the door slammed shut behind them.

There were sounds around her, thumping, slamming, glass breaking, a horrific moan of anger. She found the door handle but it wasn't budging. They were locked inside.

She yanked on the door handle over and over and over, yelling for Chuck. At last she felt his warmth pressed against her back, his arm around her waist. "It won't open! It won't open!"

And then finally, it did open. As though whatever was holding the door shut had let go. Sarah nearly fell backwards, jarring her arm painfully as she just barely held herself up, and she literally dove out of the room, Chuck right behind her.

They landed in a heap in the hallway, both of them gasping for breath. Chuck was white with fear and she was sure she was, too.

Sarah felt all of her training leave her at once, and she rolled over onto her knees, grabbing Chuck by his shoulders, nearly in tears from fear. "Let's go now, okay? Because I don't want to die here. I want to go home and have a baby and start our family, okay? Let's just go!"

But her voice died in her throat then, because coming from the room behind her where she'd just had one of the worst frights of her life was the sound of slow clapping.

She watched as Chuck's terror-filled, wide eyes narrowed in confusion first, and then anger.

Turning to see what it was, she felt her own anger flare up almost immediately.

Earl Belle had the most massive grin on his face, his tall and thin body nearly vibrating with excitement and glee as he clasped his hands together and shook his head. "That was the best. You two were definitely the best I've seen. And you're gonna have a kid, huh? Congratulations! That's so exciting!"

Sarah just gaped, blood rushing to her face. She was mortified. But more than that, she was just so…damn…pissed.

She climbed to her feet slowly, leaving Chuck sprawled on the floor next to her. "What…is this?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous.

"Come into my lair! I want you to see! I mean I was going to try for the whole Wizard of Oz reveal with the curtain and everything, but I'll take what I can get. You guys were just great. Wow."

The young heir of the Belle fortune waved them back into the room he'd just left. Sarah looked down at Chuck to see he was still in shock, his brown eyes sweeping up to hers. "Uh…" was all he seemed capable of, before he finally crawled up from the floor and stood to his full height, brushing himself off, before leaning down to pick up his tranq pistol and slip it into its holster again.

They followed him into the room as he flicked the lights on.

In the corner of the room, there was a disgustingly lifelike caricature of a banshee thing screaming, its face ragged and white and freaky, with stringy hair and sharp, bloody teeth. That was what she'd shined her phone on, apparently. It had scared her shitless then. It looked silly now.

But then she saw the switchboard, with numerous television screens mounted on it, all of them showing different areas of the house.

This was all a ploy. It was a sick joke.

Earl Belle had so much money, and so many toys, that he'd eventually gotten bored. So he set up this whole thing to start messing with people who were trying to help him. That's all this was. This whole damn thing was a prank. An incredibly high tech and intricate prank because, honestly, she had no idea how one man had managed to do all of it.

Suddenly, she was furious. A veil of red fell over her eyes, and she wanted blood.

Then she heard Chuck's voice in her ear, and he stepped into her line of sight to block her view of her prey. "Sarah? Sarah. Sarah…Baby…Let me have the gun…"

Her grip tightened on the S&W she had lowered at her side. She clenched her jaw, nostrils flared, eyes narrowed and murderous.

"Sarah? The gun? Can I have the gun, please?"

She felt Chuck's soft touch, his hand warm and reassuring as it closed over hers.

"C'mon, lemme have the gun, honey. Sarah, I love you, but you need to give me the gun."

He had to wrestle it out of her hand with both of his, but she finally let him have it. She barely gave him the time to put it away before she pounced to strangle the life out of the rich bastard standing there with a blank look on his face like he had no idea why she was so furious.

Chuck caught her, both arms around her as she struggled against him. "I'm gonna tear your head off, you piece of shit! Who does this?! Who fucking does this to another person?!"

"It was just a joke!" he squeaked, cowering towards the corner.

"I'll just a joke you right into your grave, you shithead!" she yelled, trying to reach over Chuck's shoulder to get a piece of the pipsqueak. Even the tiniest piece. Just an ear maybe.

"Sarah!" Chuck said in a strangled voice, trying to rein her in as best he could.

"Oh, come on! If you saw your own faces, you would laugh! I promise! You especially, man. You looked like you were about to pee yourself," Earl said as he lowered his arms and sighed in relief, seeming to think he was safe enough with Chuck holding her back. It was funny how people who barely even knew Chuck seemed to trust him to always be upstanding, to take the high road, to be a genuinely good guy.

Which is what made everything so much better when Chuck froze and met Sarah's gaze, his mouth twitching a little before he let go of her and stepped completely out of her way. "Have at him, sweetie."

Sarah Bartowski had never loved anything or anyone more than she loved her nerd husband in that moment. The way he stood there with his arms crossed, a nonchalant look on his face, confident that she would easily tear the guy to shreds and not really looking like he cared if she did.

Earl Belle spun to look at him, then back at her, then back at Chuck again. "W-Wait. Hold on. You still have her gun, r-right?" he asked Chuck, smoothing a nervous hand over his swoopy, style blond hair.

"I don't need a gun," she said through clenched teeth, and she took a menacing step towards him.

But then another moan sounded. And she stopped. She ignored the chill that went through her and gave Earl a flat look. "The gig is up, asshole. Stop with the stupid sound effects."

He turned to look at his switchboard. "I'm standing right here. I didn't touch anything. Th-That wasn't me."

"Would you quit it already?" Chuck snapped from behind her. "You probably have a remote or something in your pocket."

Earl hurried to empty his pockets and there was nothing. Not in his pants pockets or in the pockets of his suit jacket. "See? It wasn't me!"

"Right, just like that ghost in the hallway wasn't you. Sure."

"G—What? A ghost in the hallway?" To his credit, the jack ass looked genuinely confused. "You guys are messing with me now, right? Payback's a bitch. …Right?"

"Stop screwing around, Earl," Sarah said dangerously. "The prank is over. That stupid projection or whatever of the ghost in the hallway!"

"No, no! You don't get it. I…If you saw something in the hallway…Look, you guys. My uncle bought me my Harvard diploma, okay? I barely even went to my classes! I have my video stuff and cardboard cut-outs. But…I didn't…I can't make projections. That's way too much…I don't have that kind of know-how. Cardboard, sound machines. That's all I got. I swear."

Sarah slowly turned to look at Chuck when the moan sounded again, except closer this time.

He swallowed, his eyes flicking away from hers to fasten on something else. He paled again and she almost groaned, knowing exactly what she would see when she turned around.

The ghost was back, hovering next to a legitimately terrified Earl Belle. He screamed bloody murder. "What the hell is that?!"

"Let's go!" Sarah grabbed Chuck by his backpack and tugged him with her.

They sprinted down the back stairs to the second floor, rushed down the staircase into the foyer, out the front door, past those creepy statues, and sped towards the gate. Sarah didn't hesitate at all, leaping up to hoist herself up and swinging over to the other side. She landed gracefully, watching as Chuck leapt up to grab the top and used all of his strength to pull himself over.

Sarah saw it even before it happened. "Chuck, careful!"

But he was afraid, desperate to get over, the careful and logical part of his brain drowned by panic. The hem of his pant leg got caught on the top of the fence, and while the rest of his body flew over the top of the fence, his leg stayed where it was.

Chuck cried out as he swung upside down, his arms grappling for something, anything to hold onto. She heard the loud rip of his pants as he fell. Afraid he might land on his head and break his neck, she dove underneath him, grabbing him as best she could and ending up on the ground with Chuck sprawled on top of her.

She couldn't breathe, but she still managed to have the strength to run a hand through his hair, forcing him to look at her. "You okay?" she wheezed.

"Just my pride. And my pants."

They scrambled up to their feet, Chuck hoisting her most of the way, since she was still trying to catch her breath after having a 6'4" man land on top of her, and they sprinted hand in hand down the hill towards the van. When they reached it, Sarah hurried to the driver's side, fumbling with the keys to open the door and pressing the unlock button to let Chuck in.

Once they were both safely inside, she turned on the van and sighed with relief as she felt it rev to life without any trouble.

She and Chuck both yelped as the back door slid open, only for Earl Belle to scramble inside and shut it behind him. "You guys were pretty cool leaping over the fence like that. I've got a key so I just unlocked it and walked through. Okay, let's get out of here. Should we go to the police first? Do they deal with this sort of thing? Are the Ghostbusters real? That's a good question. Because if so, we should call them."

Sarah didn't even think twice. She reached over and grabbed her gun out of Chuck's holster and pointed it in the heir's face. "Get the fuck out of my car, Earl."

"What?" He blinked, his eyes nearly crossing as he looked down the barrel of her gun.

"Uh, Sarah…?" Chuck tried.

"Get out."

"But there's a ghost back there! A real, live ghost!"

"That ghost may or may not kill you, Earl, but this gun has real bullets in it. If I pull this trigger, you'll definitely be dead."

"You're crazy!"

"Maybe you should've done a little more research, Earl, because if you did, you'd know Carmichael Industries is not to be screwed with," she growled.

He swallowed thickly and climbed back out of the van, just standing there gaping.

"Shut the door, Earl!" she snapped, looking in her rearview mirror.

He did so, but then he appeared at her window. "Don't leave me here!" he pleaded as she pressed the lock button on her door. "It's gonna eat me! Please!"

Sarah wasn't entirely prepared for the loud barking laughter that came out of Chuck, but she ignored it as best she could, smirking just a little as she put the van in reverse and peeled out of there, back onto the road and as far away from that place as she could take them.

"Do you know how crazy you were just then?" Chuck said through his laughter. "And yet, I must be crazy, too, because I am totally turned on." He just laughed even harder and she shook her head, grinning.

"What the hell was that back there?" she breathed, pushing her hand through her hair.

"Um, probably a ghost. So, we have two options. The first is we do something about it. Or…we pretend none of this ever happened."

"Second option."

"Good! We're on the same page then."

There was a lull in the conversation then as the adrenaline started wearing off.

Until she heard Chuck groan.

"What?" she asked, whipping her head around to stare at him, wondering if he'd actually been hurt after all. But he hadn't. He was just surveying the damage of his pants. They were ripped all the way up the seam, revealing his navy blue boxers as he pulled the material away. His long leg was in full view and she found herself smiling a little. "It's a good look for you. But then I'm kinda fond of your legs, even if they are a little skinny."

"Haaaa," he mocked, wrinkling his nose and curling his lip. "Maaan, I liked these pants, too."

"We'll get you new ones. Later. Right now, I just want to get to a hotel in a highly populated area and watch something…wholesome."

"Like Ghostbusters?"

Her heart swelled a little, even as she rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot."

* * *

 **A/N:** Not sure I've ever written anything more Sarah Walker than when she spots that ghost in the hallway, asks what the hell it is, gets an arm raise and moan as a response, and looks at it with annoyance like, "Damn it, that's not an answer." Man, this one was fun. So much fun.

Hope you all enjoyed! Leave a review!

-SC


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